Creativity

I’ve scoured the trash
to find the rash moments
of this past year.
The darker times with no
place among the tinsel
I start to tingle
acknowledge the simplicity
as I commingle
all my energy, electricity
runs through the instrument
I am joy no longer dissonant
I used to choose a bypass
believed my past held me
in thrall, the call
of my ancestors deep with pain
their domain. Yet here I sit
hosting what is. Now I permit
the scattered pieces magnetized
I am the lodestone, gathering
increases all that pent-up
trauma releases. I cherish
all the beliefs that now
perish in the flame of my
vitality blazing a
brilliant new reality.
Outside a hawk is kreeing.
I heed on bended knee.

Inspired by Rash, Joy, Tinsel, Cherish¬†and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt “ingle.”